Chapter 25: Chapter 24 - An Arrow in the Dark

Orla:

The forest was getting darker with every step we took, and the way the sun dipped below the horizon made the trees look even more twisted and eerie. Their branches curled overhead, reaching out like long, bony fingers. The whole place felt unnervingly still, the kind of quiet that makes you hyper-aware of every little sound. The only things breaking the silence were the steady clatter of Raven’s hooves and the creaking of Sang-min’s rice pull-cart, trundling alongside us.

Milo walked ahead, keeping a close watch on the path, his body tense as the sky deepened into a rich, velvety purple. I shifted in the saddle, adjusting my grip on Raven’s reins. The ride had been long, and my muscles were stiff and sore, but the cool night air helped clear my head. Even so, something about the forest felt… wrong. Like we weren’t as alone as we seemed.

Sang-min hadn’t stopped chattering since we’d left Jin-hoon’s hut. His boundless energy was unwavering, and he bantered with Milo as we walked, keeping up a steady stream of conversation that seemed out of place in the quiet, eerie woods.

“Should reach Seongjin-ri by tomorrow night” Sang-min said, his voice full of energy like this was a joyride instead of a long, tiring trek. He shot a grin my way, as if the dense, creepy forest didn’t faze him at all. “Maybe even sooner if we’re lucky. It’s a great little town—quiet, perfect for anyone looking to disappear for a while,” he added, throwing in a wink as if he knew more than he was letting on.

I couldn’t help but glance at Milo as Sang-min spoke. He had been unusually quiet for the past few hours, and I could tell by the way his shoulders tensed that he was on edge. The eerie atmosphere wasn’t helping, and neither was Sang-min’s constant banter. Still, the man’s energy was hard to ignore.

“Why do you live all the way out here?” I asked. Sang-min didn’t seem like the type to settle down in the middle of nowhere.

Sang-min chuckled as he pulled the cart with surprising ease. “I wouldn’t say I live here—more like, I pass through a lot. Gotta keep Jin-hoon stocked up on rice and all that. It’s good exercise!” His grin widened, and oddly enough, I found it comforting, even though his words didn’t exactly scream ‘confidence.’

“But what about you two? What brings you out here? It’s not exactly the kind of place people wander into on purpose. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to get lost in these woods,” Sang-min said, shaking his head. “Lots of strange things happen out here—people disappearing, hearing voices, seeing things that aren’t really there.”

Great, I thought, just what I needed to hear after everything we’ve been through. His words didn’t exactly calm my nerves. “Well, we’re not here by choice. It’s a long story.”

“So, what then?” Sang-min grinned. “You two running away together or something?”

I let out a nervous, awkward laugh, heat creeping up my neck as I looked toward Milo, hoping he’d jump in. But when I glanced at him, he seemed completely lost in his own world, scanning the surroundings as if he hadn’t heard a word. My laugh faltered, and I quickly turned back to Sang-min, offering a weak smile.

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“No, no. It’s not like that,” I said awkwardly.

Sang-min shrugged, his grin returning. “Well you're lucky I found you, then. Jin-hoon’s great for medicine, but he’s not much for leading anyone back to civilization. He likes his space.”

“He told me he was exiled. Does that have anything to do with why he doesn’t go to Seongjin-ri?”

Sang-min nodded knowingly. “Ah, so he told you. Yeah, that’s part of it. But there’s more to the story that I won’t get into tonight.” His voice trailed off, as if he wanted to say more but knew it wasn’t his story to share. “If I’m being honest, though, Jin-hoon was never the type to enjoy company. He’s just the kind of guy who prefers being alone. Out here, it’s his refuge—away from the crowds, away from all the noise.”

I weighed his words. Had exile forced Jin-hoon into solitude, or had he welcomed it? Maybe both. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself—he didn’t seem bitter about it, just… resigned. Like someone who had long made peace with his place in the world.

Shaking the thought away, I leaned forward on Raven, lowering my voice as I gave a quiet psst at Milo. “You alright? Something on your mind?”

Milo shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the dark trees surrounding us. “It’s nothing... I just thought I heard something out there.”

Sang-min chuckled. “See? Like I said, these woods play tricks on you. You hear and see things that aren’t really there.”

We kept moving, the silence now fallen between us growing heavier as the shadows deepened around us. The further we went, the more the unease settled in my chest. Maybe Milo was right. I’d felt it too—that faint, creeping sensation, like the trees were watching, like something just beyond our sight was moving with us.

“You know,” Sang-min said, cutting through the tension hanging in the air, “there’s a clearing up ahead. Good spot to settle for the night—open space, no unwanted company, and if the clouds cooperate, a pretty decent view of the stars.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Milo suddenly stopped in his tracks, throwing a hand up to halt us. “Shh,” he whispered sharply, his body going rigid as he tilted his head, listening intently.

Raven obeyed instantly, coming to a halt beneath me, his ears flicking forward. The sudden stillness made my pulse quicken as I glanced at Milo, who remained tense, his head tilted slightly as he listened.

Sang-min’s cart creaked to a stop behind us, his usual grin fading. “What is it?” he whispered.

Milo’s eyes scanned the surrounding trees. “I heard it again. Something’s out there.”

I felt my pulse quicken, the stillness of the forest suddenly more menacing. I tightened my grip on Raven’s reins, glancing nervously into the darkened woods.

Sang-min, for the first time since we’d met him, seemed to sober up. His playful expression was replaced with something more serious. He lowered his voice as he spoke, “Alright, then. We move carefully. Don’t make a sound until we’re sure.”

Milo nodded, his eyes never leaving the shadows. We eventually started moving again, but this time it was slower, every step deliberate, with a sharp sense of alertness hanging in the air. My heart pounded in my chest as I strained to hear whatever Milo had picked up on. The usual forest sounds—the wind rustling through the leaves, the occasional hoot of an owl—were there, but now they felt… off, like something was hiding just beneath the surface.

And then it came. A sharp whizz cut through the air, and before I could even process it, an arrow lodged itself with a heavy thunk into a tree beside me.

I stared at it for half a second, my heart leaping into my throat.

“Oh, come on!” I blurted out, my voice louder than I intended. Of all the things to deal with tonight, another arrow was definitely not what I’d signed up for.

Milo was already moving us off the path before I could catch my breath, pulling me off Raven and into cover. “Get down!” he hissed, his hand already gripping his bow.

“Guess we’re not alone after all,” Sang-min muttered, eyes scanning the treeline.

My heart pounded, irritation bubbling alongside the fear.

Seriously, can we be done with these stupid surprise attacks?

©Sky Mincharo